


Moving Day

by luvkurai



Series: University-verse [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bath Sex, Cuties, Established Relationship, M/M, What it says on the package, Will takes charge, You go Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvkurai/pseuds/luvkurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Welcome home,” Hannibal says when the last of the boxes are in the front hall, until Will decides where he wants everything. Home. Our home. The idea makes a bit of a blush rise in his cheeks. </p>
<p>Will takes a bit of initiative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> Well there were about a million other things I should have been doing, but some inspiration floated into my mind yesterday and I couldn't stop until this was finished. Lucky for you guys ;)

The phone rings just as Will is placing the last of his clothes into a box. He smiles as he checks the caller ID and answers on the second ring.

“Hey.”

“Is your packing nearly completed? I should be arriving within the next few minutes.”

“Nearly done, yeah. I’m not sure it’ll all fit in your car though…” Will pictures Hannibal’s tiny, sleek, black car and can’t see how all eight boxes will fit. He doesn’t have a particularly large amount of possessions. He’s selling his bed and his desk to a friend of Bev’s and giving most of his kitchen items to Alana. All that really leaves is his clothes, his books, his fishing supplies, and his notebooks, numbering obscenely high, filled to the brim with his various metaphoric conceptions of the Chesapeake Ripper. The notebooks are largely useless now; he finished the first draft of his dissertation a few days prior. He hasn’t sent it to Crawford for his comments yet, as he needs to read through the fifty some pages of complex analysis a few more times first, but he’s pretty happy with it. He won’t be technically finished with the dissertation until the coming November, a few months yet, and there’s quite a bit of work ahead of him—additions, rewriting and the like—but he can honestly say that he’s looking forward to putting it behind him. The Ripper has done a number on him.

The therapy sessions with Hannibal have been going well. It seems like they are helping. Although, it’s more than a bit strange, to meet his boyfriend and lover in a conference room at the university and act like they barely know one another, in case Crawford shows up. Part of him always worries someone will see when they kiss goodbye at the end of sessions, but Hannibal always reminds him that there’s nothing Crawford can do about them seeing one another. The most he can do is have Will see a different psychiatrist.

“We can always make two trips,” Hannibal says. “Shall I come up, when I arrive?”

Will hesitates. Carrying all the boxes down himself would be awkward and time-consuming, but his roommates are mingling in the apartment’s common area, which could spell trouble. None of them are happy about Will moving in with Hannibal this early on in their relationship.

“Yes,” he finally replies, because he can’t keep Hannibal away from his friends forever. Especially not if they’re living together—what will he do when he invites them over?

“Wonderful. A few minutes, then.” They hang up and Will tapes up the last box and carries it out to place it with the others by the door.

His friends are talking about their own dissertations, comparing word counts and how terrible their advisors are. Most of them have them due over the next few weeks, unlike Will, who received an extra couple months in exchange for a higher word count.

The doorbell rings just as he sets the box down and he buzzes Hannibal up. He lingers around the door for the thirty or so seconds before there’s a knock at the door.

“Good afternoon, William,” Hannibal murmurs, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He’s dressed casually, by Hannibal’s standards. A tweed jacket and a cream-colored button-down—no tie. His hair is free from its usual styling product, hanging wiry across his forehead.

“Do you think it’ll fit?” Will gestures to his boxes.

“I think we can make it fit, yes. We may have to put the lightest one on your lap.”

Will nods. His friends migrate away from the door to the kitchen. Beverly sends a barely-concealed glare at Hannibal when she passes by. She has yet to get over Hannibal plucking Will from the bar, that night weeks ago. Alana hasn’t either, but she places more effort into hiding her antagonism, for Will’s sake. He and Hannibal are left in semi-privacy.

“I do hope the move is not causing unnecessary tension between you and your friend,” Hannibal says.

“No, they’re fine,” Will assures him. “They just…think we’re moving a bit fast, is all. We have only been dating a little over two months, after all.”

“That argument could be made.” Although it’s an accession, he sounds far too pleased with himself for Will to take him seriously.

They each take up a box and head down the stairs, leaving the door to the building momentarily propped open. Box by box, they load Hannibal’s car until there are only two left. Hannibal takes one and leaves him to say goodbye to his friends and the apartment.

He returns to his room to grab his backpack off the chair, giving his room a final onceover. He’ll be back tomorrow, to disassemble the bed and the desk, but it won’t really be his room anymore by then.

“That’s the last of it, then,” he says in the kitchen. They all perk up immediately, hugging him goodbye one after another, even Bryan and Jimmy.

“The two of you really do look great together,” Beverly says, and Will knows that, despite everything, she means it. He can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face. He feels good today. Light, as if the demons in his head have taken a vacation.

As she pulls him into a hug, Alana, true to form, says, “I’m glad you’re happy, Will.”

“Thanks. I’ll see all of you tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” Alana speaks for all of them. With a final wave, Will picks up the last box and heads out the door. Hannibal is standing by the trunk, waiting.

“Ready?” Will nods. He is ready. They may have been dating for barely two months, but he feels good about this. He wants to be with Hannibal, always. If they didn’t do this now, they would just do it later on.

Will folds himself into the car, a box on his lap, and grins when Hannibal enters on the drivers side. He raises an eyebrow at him in question.

“I’m really excited about this. Living with you.”

“Me too.” Hannibal kisses him quickly, says, “I love you.”

“ _Mm_ , I love you, too.”

* * *

The drive feels quicker than usual. Soon, they’re unloading the boxes, carrying them up the driveway and over the threshold. 

“Welcome home,” Hannibal says when the last of the boxes are in the front hall, until Will decides where he wants everything. _Home. Our home._ The idea makes a bit of a blush rise in his cheeks. He’s not a guest here anymore, not like all the other times, when he felt like he had to ask before doing anything.

Hannibal presses them both towards a wall and doesn’t bother removing Will’s glasses before kissing him. They curve their lips together, breathing one another’s exhalations. Kissing slowly.

“Mmm…” Hannibal hums into the kiss for a moment before pulling away. “I think I should leave you to unpack your things and settle in a bit.”

Will nods. He’ll feel much more comfortable doing it without worrying about Hannibal looking over his shoulder and judging every one of his possessions. He’d never voice anything, of course; Will’s mind would fabricate the majority of it.

“I will take a bath for a bit, then begin preparing our dinner. Is there anything special you would like, for our first meal living together?”

“Anything you make will be perfect,” he says, with a smile. “Surprise me.”

“I shall think on it, then.” Hannibal kisses him gently once more and turns to head upstairs and into the master bathroom.

An idea flits into his head almost the second the door clicks shut. His face reddens; he is glad Hannibal is not there to see it.

Will has never once initiated sex. Not really. Hannibal is always the first to make a move, be it sex, body contact or even kisses for the most part.

If they are going to live together as equal partners, that has to change.

He takes a long time to dig his bathrobe out of one of the boxes. It’s old and shabby, bought cheap and out of necessity resultant from him sharing a flat with two girls. It’s nothing compared to Hannibal’s silk one, but it hardly matters—he won’t be wearing it for long. He runs upstairs and into the bedroom, then quickly strips, letting his clothing fall haphazardly from one wall to the other.

He waits an extra five minutes, giving enough time to ensure Hannibal is settled and relaxed in the tub. With the bathrobe wrapped loosely around his body, he knocks. In the moment he waits for a response, he steels himself, forces his various quivering limbs under control.

“Enter,” Hannibal calls from behind the door. When he steps inside, a waft of steam hits him. He’s glad to have left his glasses behind.

Will looks at him. Sitting there in the tub, water up around his chest, one knee above the water. His hair is wet, sending images of him resurfacing from the water, hair, heavy from the water, quickly pushed out of his face. He nearly salivates.

“Yes, Will?” Hannibal asks and Will, without a word, drops his robe. He leaves it strewn across the floor, similarly to his clothes, out in the bedroom. If this goes well, Hannibal will not mind either.

_Don’t stutter, now._ “Mind if I join you?”

He steps into the tub without waiting for an answer. One foot after another, carefully avoiding his lover’s outstretched legs. The moan he lets out as he sinks down to his knees in the water is partly due to the feel of the warmth soaking into his bones, but mostly for Hannibal’s benefit.

Will has never been in the tub before. He doesn’t particularly enjoy baths, nearly always opting for the quicker shower. But he can see the appeal of having one now. It’s big, big enough for two people, but certainly not enough for them to sit side by side. Will counted on this and straddles Hannibal easily, placing one hand on the rim of the tub, for balance, and drapes the other over Hannibal’s shoulder. 

“No, not at all.” Hannibal isn’t smiling, but he’s undeniably pleased. Something about the quirk of his eyebrow, the ease of his shoulders, gives it away. Leaning forward, Will presses his lips against Hannibal’s. He doesn’t use any tongue, doesn’t even open his mouth. Just enjoys the feel of their lips together. Then, he moves away again.

Behind him, he feels around for a bottle of something wet and smooth. While  he searches he moves the hand on the rim of the tub to Hannibal’s chest, keeping it flat and firm against smooth flesh.

“Are you planning on helping me bathe?” Hannibal asks, not without humor. Will turns to look at him and grins, just for a beat.

“I _could_ do that,” he says. He comes away with a bottle of an expensive looking lotion, because _of course_ Hannibal would keep that beside his bathtub. “But I had something better in mind.”

Without another word he squirts lotion out onto his fingers—just a bit, it’s very runny and he doesn’t need much. He can’t quite keep eye contact, but he tries to make it look as lewd as possible, when he reaches the hand back and slowly slides a finger into himself. After a couple thrusts he can add the second. Soon, he’s gasping, moaning at the sensation. Hands come up to grip his hips as he works, but Will uses his free hand to push them away.  
“You— _ah!_ You can keep your hands to yourself,” he says to Hannibal between gasps. Gives a wink to let him know it’s a game. A low sound of pleasure rumbles through Hannibal and he puts his hands up in mock surrender, accepting Will’s terms.

The feel of his own fingers is fantastic. It takes a bit of effort, a lot of prodding, but after a long moment he finds his prostate and then its glorious. He’s never rubbed it himself before and he can hardly control himself, as he feels his heavy cock harden further. His eyes fall shut and there is nothing faked or exaggerated about the moan that falls from his mouth.

“ _Oh, Will,”_ Hannibal says. He opens his eyes to see his boyfriend clearly entranced, clearly captivated by what Will is doing. By Will pleasuring himself. “So beautiful.”

Will ducks his head before remembering himself. He brushes over the bundle of nerves once more before withdrawing his fingers.

“Sorry for neglecting you,” he says, and before Hannibal can say something like _‘it’s no trouble’_ , Will repositions himself and moves to press the head of his erection against his hole.

“ _Ohn…”_ Will pants as he lowers himself, slowly but surely. The feeling is so intense, it’s hard to keep his eyes open, but he peeks one open to see Hannibal’s lips parted, his own eyes closed, clearly enjoying the feel of Will around his cock.

He can’t quite get to the base on his first go, but he lifts up and pushes down as hard as he can—and reaches his goal.

“Will, Will, _Will_ ,” Hannibal hisses between his teeth. He growls, an almost-snarl that shakes both of them so hard, it’s almost vulgar.

“So good,” Will whimpers. He moves more easily now, setting himself at an easy pace, up and down, up and down. Every few thrusts, he rises up entirely, just to see Hannibal’s face when he envelopes his cock again. Hips jerk, Hannibal hits a spot inside him _deep._

It must be a combination of everything, the feeling of taking charge, the sight of Hannibal sitting back and letting Will do as he pleases, but he is already astoundingly close. He decides to forgo his earlier ‘no touching’ rule.

“Touch me, touch my dick,” he half-begs, half-commands. It doesn’t matter which, really, because Hannibal happily obliges. He starts at the head, rubbing his fingers over the bead of pre-cum gathered there. With his slickened hand, he tightens his grip to a fist and rubs down Will’s erection.

“Oh— _oh god—_ Your _hand—“_ Will whines. “D-don’t stop, make me cum, oh _god—“_

He lets his noises increase in volume of their own accord. Lets them echo around the room until there’s no sound but them and the rush of his own blood in his ears. After raising himself up, he shifts as best he can to press the head of Hannibal’s cock against his prostrate. With circling hips that make the water around him splash up and over the rim of the tub, he rubs his nerves against the single point of hot pressure until he can’t take any more.

He kisses Hannibal when he cums, just for a moment, before he loses control of his body and has to slump forward against the man’s chest. Lips hanging open wide, he settles for mouthing against Hannibal’s cheek as he relieves himself into the water. Some of the thick streams of cum land on Hannibal’s abdomen, quickly sliding down his wet skin into the water.

He takes a short moment to collect himself, to just bask in the thrum of blood rushing pleasantly through his veins. Then, he forces himself back down on Hannibal’s cock. It hurts a little, to keep going, but it’s worth it to be able to see Hannibal’s face so close like this. To watch all the little twitches of pleasure and surprise flickering across.

He impales himself over and over again, rolling his hips, arching his back, and sticking out his ass so he can push as far down as is physically possible. Holding his breath, he clenches, watches Hannibal’s head immediately tip back, bearing his neck. He says something under his breath, a foreign word that Will doesn’t recognize. Probably a curse, judging by the way his lip curls up when he says it.

Will kisses at the exposed throat, pushes his teeth over it and drags his fingernails from his lover’s shoulders to where the water rises up around him. Hands come to his sides again and this time Will doesn’t push them away, soaks up the feel of thumbs rubbing circles into his hipbones. His own hands go beyond Hannibal’s shoulders to the back rim of the tub. He grips it as firmly as he can and uses it for support as he drives himself harder and harder down, working to make Hannibal cum.

His lover opens his eyes and raises his head to watch him, bringing their lips only inches apart, close enough for their separate moans to send puffs of air against one another’s faces. It takes a large effort, but Will forces himself to look into Hannibal’s eyes, to lock their gazes together as the man nears his release.

Hannibal orgasms a few moments later, growling, “ _Will_ ,” as he does so. The hold on his hips turns harsher, almost bruising, as Hannibal thrusts incrementally deeper into Will’s body. He feels the familiar burst of warm cum inside him and works to clench his hole as hard as possible while Hannibal finishes. Once it’s clear he is spent, Will leans against Hannibal’s chest, panting. A few moments later, he reaches down to remove Hannibal, flaccid now, from his hole. The resounding emptiness is more bearable due to the warm water.

“That was…unexpected…”

Will scoffs. _Surprise bath sex_ , he almost says.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” he teases instead, leaning back to grab the bottle of shampoo—if he’s in the bath, he might as well clean himself up.

“I didn’t like it,” Hannibal says, as Will turns to look for the bottle. “I _loved_ it.”

Will turns back around just in time for Hannibal to splash him in the face. It drenches his hair, which until then managed to stay miraculously dry. For a second, he’s so astounded, so shocked, that he can’t think of what to do. The action is so playful, so uncharacteristic of Hannibal, yet entirely real.

“Are you five?” He asks, laughing. He maneuvers himself off Hannibal’s thighs and squeezes some shampoo into his hands.

“Hmm, no. I believe it was you that told me I am old enough to be your father.”

“Yeah,” Will quips back. “And it wasn’t a lie _daddy_.”

For emphasis, Will sends a splash of his own at Hannibal. It’s a bit larger than he intends—water goes all over the floor, in addition to making Hannibal sopping wet once more.

They divulge into what can only be described as a splash war—relaxed and playful until Hannibal finally lunges forward to grab Will by the wrists and pull him back into his lap.

“I am very glad you agreed to move in with me,” Hannibal says quietly. “You have made be terribly happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

Then, they’re kissing. A bit frantically at first, from the energy leftover from their game, but then it turns slower, sweeter. Will sits up as straight as he can, his arms looped around Hannibal neck and licks gently into Hannibal’s mouth. The doctor moans. Shifts his jaw so his lower teeth graze gently against the underside of Will’s tongue. Will gasps in response, pulls him impossibly close. He drags a few fingers through Hannibal’s hair, loving the feeling of it while wet. They kiss for so long that the water goes still, a bit cool, but they trade body heat and barely notice.

Eventually, Hannibal strays from Will’s mouth to kiss down the stubble of his jaw, the curve of his throat. All the places he wanted to kiss earlier, when Will wouldn’t let him. He leaves a trail down Will’s neck, until finally settling on a single point upon Will’s shoulder.

He licks the patch of skin, nips at it and sucks hard enough to leave a love bite and make Will tense and gasp out, “ _Hannibal.”_

“You taste so good,” the man whispers. He pulls away, pleased with his craftsmanship.

Will hums. “Y’gonna eat me?” He’s too sleepy for correct grammar.

It is Hannibal’s turn to hum. “Maybe.”

He licks the reddening mark and leans his forehead against Will’s. _We should get out_ , Will thinks. The water is nearing chilly; the steam is completely gone from the room. But he can’t even consider moving, his lover’s arms are so comfortable. He feels himself drifting, just barely.

Hannibal’s voice comes, with all its addictive melody, from a distant place: “But I would miss you too much, I think.”

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't meant to be out until at least december. Unfortunately, that means there will likely be a bit of a gap before the next part comes out. Thanks to all of you for being so patient with me. People asking me about when the next part will be up is honestly not an annoyance at all. Sometimes I honestly forget to write, so it's nice to have a reminder that people are waiting for me to get my shit together. Also it's so sweet that people like this enough to wonder when there will be more. *rolls away*
> 
> luvkurai.tumblr.com


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